The Challenge
by Kirsty Joy
Summary: Everyone knows that the boys are competitive, but what happens when the prize is a kiss from their dear ol' Watchtower? Chlollie. Rated for some violence.


_Hey, all of my stories inadvertently got deleted off of this website. Two of my stories are gone for good -off of my computer as well - ("Second Chances" and "Big Girls Don't Cry"), but I've managed to restore this one. Hope you enjoy it! :-)_

_First Chlollie EVER! WHOOO HOOO!_

_. . . . . . . . . . . _

**The Challenge **

Chloe winced and leaned against the cement wall. Closing her eyes in exhaustion, she hoped that the boys wouldn't do anything stupid to rescue her. Grimacing in the semi-dark, she realized that it was almost a foregone hope since someone seemed to make some kind of ridiculous decision almost every time that they went out. It was her humble opinion that the boys were getting a tad too cocky for their own good, especially the youngest and oldest members of the group. In fact, all this had started when Bart had made a small, silly, mistake that had almost cost them a mission. Her mind drifted back to the night before when Oliver had almost finished the lecture he was giving Bart.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"And next time you will follow your orders down to the letter, and PRECISELY when you are told. I know that you think that you can predict what Chloe is going to say and when, but..."

"I get the point," Bart interrupted Oliver, sounding slightly sulky, "And I'll be more careful next time. But hey, we all made it out in time, nothing bad really happened, and if it had, yours truly would have been able to save the day anyways."

"Just remember that even though you are fast, you're not invincible," Chloe put in, directing a small smile his way, "And we want you to be around to save the day another time as well."

"He's not invincible either!" Bart exclaimed, looking decidedly pouty, "And if it wasn't for his little green arrows he would just be another guy who likes to wear leather on his time off."

"Well, that may be true," Chloe nodded, catching a look in Oliver's eye that she didn't really like and trying to end the conversation before it went from lecture to argument, "But..."

"Little green arrows?" Oliver repeated, looking annoyed, "You say it like they're something to be ashamed of. I just use them to enhance my work, they are not strictly necessary!"

"Oh yeah?" Bart challenged, a wicked look coming into his eyes, "You couldn't steal a pen out from behind Chloelicious's lovely little ear without one of your arrows to help."

"Ha." Oliver scoffed, stepping right up to the bait, "Neither could you without your super speed."

"I bet that I can, without using my speed to help, get the item of her choice out of her pocket without her noticing before you can," Bart paused and glanced sideways at Chloe before finishing, "And the winner gets a kiss."

"Whoa," Chloe interposed with a smirk, "If you boys are going to start getting all mushy with each other, I'm going to leave."

"That's not what I meant," Bart reddened before turning to Oliver, "Well?"

"You're on!"

. . .

"Remind me again how I let myself get talked into this?" Chloe sighed, as Oliver and Bart handed her the items they had chosen the next morning.

"You just can't resist the thought that you might get to kiss me," Bart winked at her, "Always knew you had a thing for me. Don't forget, if both the cool mini flashlight and the lame gold pocket-watch are missing tonight, we both get a kiss. And," he as he suddenly realized something, "It can't be on the forehead or the cheek. Has to be on the lips."

Chloe sighed, pocketing the items, "Fine. Hopefully only one of your things will be missing, I don't think I could stomach more than one kiss today."

"Well don't sound like a martyr," Oliver said, his eyebrows drawing together, "The prospect of kissing me isn't that revolting!"

"That's what you think," Bart said smugly, "I can assure you that the idea of kissing you is EXTREMELY disgusting."

"Okay, okay," Chloe interrupted, rolling her eyes with a small chuckle, "That's enough. Both of the items are in my left side pocket."

"Sure you don't want to put it in your back pocket?" Bart asked with a grin, only to be smacked on the back of the head by Oliver, "Hey, I was just asking!"

"This contest does NOT give you an excuse to grope my Watchtower!" Oliver told him seriously.

"Hey," Bart said defensively, "She's not YOUR Watchtower! In fact..."

"Boys!" Chloe smirked, "The other rule is that if I catch you with your hand in my pocket, or if I have any idea, without checking, who's item is missing, you have to put it back and start again. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get started on my day. And I'm not giving you a full schedule," she said hastily as Bart opened his mouth to ask, "That makes it too easy."

"Okay," Oliver said unconcernedly, sitting down and picking up a paper, "Bye, have a good day."

"I intend to," Chloe grinned, "It's not every day I get to have two handsome guys following me around."

"Just don't expect to actually see us," Bart told her, "Well, the sooner you get going the sooner I can get my nifty flashlight back, so..."

"Nifty?" Oliver grinned, looking up from his paper, "Did you just say nifty?"

"What?" Bart said defensively, "It is!"

"Who says nifty anymore?"

Chloe rolled her eyes and walked out of the building, leaving them arguing with each other. Going out to the curb, she nearly got run over by a skateboarder.

"Put it back," she said as he bumped into her, "And next time don't get over zealous and try to kill me."

"Aw, come on," Bart whined, "You didn't SEE me get it, can't you just..."

"No," Chloe said firmly, holding out her hand and then putting the flashlight back in it's place, "Now scoot."

She shook her head as he skated away, this was going to be an interesting day.

. . .

By lunch time she had gone grocery shopping, gotten her hair cut, and caught Bart three more times, but hadn't seen Oliver even once. Deciding that she felt decidedly safer with her eyes on the two of them, she decided to invite them to have lunch with her at a cozy little restaurant she liked. Opening up her phone she called Bart, and then dialed Oliver.

"Missing your handsome boss, Sidekick? Worried I won't win, perhaps?"

She smiled, "No, it was your ego that I was missing. Wanna join me and Bart for lunch at 'Perfectly Pizza'?"

"Leave Bart out of the equation and I'd love to."

"Sorry, have to keep the playing field even."

"I beg your pardon, what was it that you said about playing the field?"

"Shut up and get your rear in gear," she laughed, "I'm going to be there in 5 minutes, so unless you want me to spend some quality time with Bart..."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming."

Bart was waiting outside when she arrived, but she managed to prevent him from putting an arm around her waist as she went in.

"What?" he asked innocently, looking hurt, "Can't I even give a hug to the most beautiful woman in town without getting my hand slapped?"

"No," she answered absently, looking the place over before selecting a booth by the window, "And you are not going to sit next to me at lunch either, so don't even try."

"Aw, why not?" Bart asked, crestfallen, "Don't you like me any more?"

"Today I am making you and Oliver sit across from me where I can keep my eyes on your hands." Chloe informed him with a wink as she sat down.

"Shh, keep your voice down," Bart said, flashing her his best grin, "Anyone listening would think that I make a habit of grabbing you."

"Hey," Oliver greeted them a couple minutes later, sitting down next to Bart, "Have you guys ordered yet?"

"No," Chloe said, taking another sip of her drink before leaning back in the booth, feeling a little more relaxed, "How about if you two decide?"

"Pepperoni," Bart said immediately, whipping the menu out of Oliver's hands, "Extra cheese."

"Get me a salad," Chloe ordered, stifling a yawn and standing up, "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Bart asked, getting ready to hop over Oliver to ensure that she didn't leave his line of sight.

"To the ladies room, so don't bother getting up." she smothered a grin at his blush, "Don't forget my salad. I like the one with grilled chicken on top." she reminded them before making her way to hallway at the back of the restaurant where the restrooms were located.

. . .

"What in the world takes women so long in the bathroom?" Bart muttered, glancing up at the clock on the wall, "She's been in there for over ten minutes."

"That's one question you shouldn't ever ask. Why is it that every wine list, no matter how cheap, describe their wines in the exact same way," Oliver said absently, "How long?" he asked, glancing up from the wine list with a sudden interest.

"Well, it's seven seconds away from being fifteen minutes," the younger man answered, his eyes glued to the second hand, "Three, two, one, fifteen minutes."

"Be right back," Oliver stood up, "I'm going to go knock and tell her that our lunch is going to be here any second."

"You are going to go knock?" Bart raised his eyebrows, "On the ladies' room? I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

"So I'm taking my life in my hands," Oliver rolled his eyes as he left, "I'll be careful."

. . .

"Are you looking for someone?" the woman coming out of the bathroom raised one eyebrow inquiringly, "Or do you make it a point of standing outside of the ladies' room just to see who comes out?"

"No, I'm sorry," Oliver said, "I was under the impression that my friend was in there and I had a message for her."

"The blonde in the black skirt and blue sweater? She was in line ahead of me. Looked like she was ready to fall asleep on her feet. Didn't see which way she went, good luck." With that the woman made her way back to the dining area.

Oliver cursed under his breath as he looked around the narrow hallway. At one end was a door to the kitchen, and on the other end was an exit.

"Bart," he said, going back to the table, "Chloe is missing."

"What?" Bart jumped up like he had been shot, "What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

"Never mind about our order," Oliver said as their waitress went by, "I left a ten on the table for her drink."

"I'm so sorry it's taking so long," the waitress apologized, looking embarrassed, "We have a new waiter on staff today and he overturned your original pizza when it came out. I was just coming to explain."

"No problem," he reassured her, "But we can't wait for the new pizza, we're just going to have to come back another time. Bart, come on."

. . .

Chloe had started feeling a little worried when she felt her exhaustion creeping up on her as she exited the restroom. She was beginning to wonder if she possibly could have been drugged, but the older gentleman who had been working the bar had been one of her most loyal friends ever since she had helped his meteor infected granddaughter find her place in the world. She shook her head and blinked, trying to dispel the fog that was rapidly gathering in her mind, but to no avail. Everything got darker and darker until she finally surrendered to the sleep that pulled on her mind.

She had woken up in the same small cement room that she was in now, tied hand and foot.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chloe breathed deeply and opened her eyes, trying to gather her senses. She wondered briefly how long she had been out of it. If the tiny window above her head actually was facing outside, then it probably dusk out, which would mean that Oliver and Bart would have discovered that she was missing by now. She decided that the first thing to do was to free her hands and feet, and she set about doing just that. She had made hardly any progress when a door she didn't know existed opened on the other side of the room, which was so tiny that she had to squeeze her legs closer to her body to avoid getting run over by it. A man in a ski mask entered and flicked on the light switch before shutting the door behind him.

Chloe had to resist shaking her head, why couldn't the bad guys ever wear any other kind of mask? Though, she supposed, it would probably not make them feel as powerful if they were wearing, say, a halloween mask of a clown, or the big bad wolf.

"Okay," she said finally, after waiting for a few minutes, "Wanna clue me in on what's going on?"

"I thought it would be obvious," the man replied in an obviously disguised voice, "I'm holding you for ransom."

"Ransom, huh? How much?" she asked curiously, hoping that he wouldn't be intelligent enough to stop talking.

"Oh, twenty million dollars, sent to Oliver Queen in case you're curious," he said with a shrug, "Not much but it should serve it's purpose."

"What purpose is that?"

"I have a theory and I'm going to prove it," he said simply, "Now, before we continue, may I say that I am very sorry that you are caught in the crossfire?"

"Why do I not like the sound of that?" she sighed, trying to keep her anxiety from showing in her voice.

"It will be necessary to rough you up a bit, but don't worry, you'll heal."

She barely had time to register his words when his hand flashed out and gave her what she was sure would be a black eye later on.

"Shoot!" she cursed as pain shot through her head, she struggled against her bonds for a moment and then, after getting hit again, she gave up and cowered against the wall, hoping to take advantage of his better side that seemed to dislike hurting her.

"Don't move, I don't want to hurt you more than I have to."

"Please," she said, her eyes widening as he brought out a knife, "Please don't. You don't need to injure me for people to take you seriously!"

"You are going to go to the hospital," he told her with a shrug, "And so you need to play the part well. Don't worry, I'll make sure that they get here before you bleed too much."

"No!" she yelled, jabbing her feet out and catching one of his legs with her high heel.

He swore, something in his voice rang a bell in her mind and she stared up at him for a moment, coming back to herself as he came at her. She tried to squirm out of his way, but with the way she was tied, she couldn't go far. She rolled out of his way and towards the door, but a moment later she felt herself fading, and everything went black for the second time that day.

. . .

Oliver growled in frustration, wishing that Victor and AC had been there to meet him, but they had said that they couldn't be there for at least twenty minutes. Cyborg would have come in particularly helpful at the moment, Oliver had tried every password that he could think of, and even some that Bart had suggested, but the keypad by the door refused to unlock.

"If only we could be sure that she was in here," he said turning to the young man who was now dressed as Impulse, "There's something strange about this whole thing. It's almost as if whoever it was that took her deliberately left clues to lead us here."

"Try pizza," Bart suggested, ignoring Green Arrow, and typing his suggestion into the keypad himself, "Hey! It worked!"

"Pizza?" His voice sounded disgusted even with the distorter, "What kind of a password is that?"

"Let's just go," Bart pleaded, "I know that you made me promise not to go ahead of you, but if you don't get your rear in gear I'm going to kick it."

They entered the dimply lit cellar, feeling their way carefully across the cement floor with their feet.

"Don't have a flashlight do you, Impulse?"

"Yeah... no, darn it, Chloelicioius has it in her pocket!" Bart fervently wished that he had chosen a different item to use in their challenge.

"Found a light switch."

"Dude, are you seriously going to turn on..." his question was cut short by Oliver flipping on the lights, "I guess that was a yes."

They stared around the cluttered basement.

"It's a door!" Bart was across the room before the words were out of his mouth.

"IMPULSE!" Oliver growled, "Remember your orders. Now go keep watch outside, I'm going to check out that door."

Bart looked like he was going to refuse, but evidently thought better of it after getting a good look at as much of Oliver's very cross face he could see beneath the dark glasses. With a frustrated stomp, he was gone. Oliver glanced behind him to see Bart standing with his back to the cellar, looking around carefully.

Trying the door, he swore when he realized it was locked, but then his eye caught sight of the key that was hanging on a hook near the door. He hesitated for just a moment, staring at the thin piece of metal that seemed to taunt him with the fact that something was just not right about this whole situation. The sound of Bart's cellphone filtered in from outside, and as the sound died away Oliver froze just as his hand touched the key. He could swear that he heard something that sounded very much like a groan coming from behind the door.

"Hey, Arrow," Bart said from right beside him as Oliver grabbed the key, "Aquaman says that there is a dude on TV claiming that he can prove that Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow. He says..."

"We'll be extra careful. Go keep watch," Oliver ordered, unlocking the door, "And really keep your eyes open."

Bart was back outside before he had finished his sentence. Oliver pushed the heavy door inward and a shot of pure rage shot through his heart when the light from the basement revealed a petite blonde tied hand and foot and covered with blood.

"Green Arrow?" came a weak voice from behind the tangled hair that covered her face.

Oliver was kneeling by her side in an instant, cradling her face with one hand while the other brushed the hair out of her face. "Who did this?" He demanded.

"Don't take me to the hospital." she groaned, her eyes refusing to focus.

"Shhh, I'm going to take care of you. Don't move." He continued talking in a soft voice as he moved down her body. He caught his breath when he came to her blood-soaked midriff, "Oh, Chloe... IMPULSE! Get in here!"

"Did you find... Oh my..." Bart knelt down next to her in a flash and stroked her cheek with his finger as Oliver examined her wound, "Hey, _Chica," _he said softly, trying to keep his voice from quavering, "You didn't have to do this to get my attention."

"I'm going to take you to the hospital." Oliver announced, "You're going to need stitches and you probably have a concussion."

"No." Chloe protested weakly, hating how unlike herself she sounded.

"Arrow," Bart interposed, "Aquaman said not to take her to the hospital. I'm going to take her back to your place and then come back for you."

Before Oliver could disagree, he found himself back in Queen Tower looking at Chloe laying on his couch.

"Stay with her," Bart, who was back in street clothes, told him, "I'm going to get Doctor what-his-face that you hired to be on call in France."

Oliver nodded absently as he gingerly peeled back her blouse to reveal the gash running across her navel. He held the edges of the wound together until a breeze informed him that Bart was back with the elderly doctor.

Bart, who had a tendency to get a bit queasy around such things, made himself scarce as the doctor applied local anesthetic and then proceeded to sew up the gash. Oliver sat with her head on his lap and gently washed the blood off her face with a clean, damp, cloth. Her eyelids fluttered open and green eyes regarded him tiredly.

"Hey, Sidekick," Oliver said with a small smile, "How ya feeling?"

"Like I got drugged and beat up," She answered, getting more awake by the second, "What's going on?"

"You said not to take you to the hospital, so I got Dr. Moreau to come fix you up. You have a big cut on your tummy, and he's stitching it up right now. I was afraid that you had a concussion, but he said that you don't. He's guessing that the drug that your kidnapper used is one that causes weakness and fainting for roughly six to twelve hours and hallucinations or nightmares almost constantly for a few hours after that, but that it shouldn't have any long lasting effects on you."

"I only caught half of that," she blinked, focusing, "Can you say it again?"

"I'll explain later," Oliver looked at her sympathetically, "Just relax."

His finger traced the blackish bruise that was already surrounding her right eye before moving down to her cheek. She just lay there looking up at him for a while.

"Never seen a black eye, Queen?" She snarked weakly, trying to cover the awkwardness she felt when it clicked in her mind that she was laying with her head on his lap and he was softly caressing her face.

"I'm really sorry," he said, his voice a bit more gentle than usual, "I should have..."

"Please, you're starting to sound like Clark," she shifted her shoulders, "I'm a big girl and I don't expect you to be omnipresent."

"I know." He seemed about to say something else when the doctor finished stitching her up and stood up. He held a quick conversation with Oliver before motioning to Bart to take him back to his own country.

"What did he say?" Chloe asked, knowing that she must be tired if she found herself experiencing the temptation to run her finger down the underside of his jaw.

"He said that you need to be watched constantly for the next couple of hours to make sure that you don't harm yourself or anyone else when the hallucinations or nightmares set in." Oliver said smoothly, "He also suggested that it would be a good idea to move you to my bed."

"I'm too tired to argue," Chloe admitted with a grimace, "Just behave yourself while I'm in your bed."

"Why, Sidekick, I didn't know you cared," Oliver smirked, picking her up bridal style and carrying her to his bedroom, "I'll make you a deal; I'll behave if you will."

"Just don't spring the idea on Bart too suddenly," Chloe murmured against his shoulder, "He'll have a fit."

"Yeah," he chuckled, kicking the bedroom door open and laying her down on the closest side of the bed, "You ok?" as she winced slightly.

"Sure, just a little sore," she whispered, snuggling down into the pillows, "It'll go away. What time is it?"

Oliver slipped her shoes off of her feet and tossed them to the side before covering her with the blanket, "Almost 11:30, go to sleep."

She didn't need to be told twice, she was asleep almost before he finished talking.

"What the heck are you doing with 'Licious in your bed?" Bart squeaked from the doorway, his face conveying his astonishment even more than his voice.

"Doctor's orders." Oliver said condescendingly, pushing Bart out of the room and starting to close the door, "Thanks for your help, you can go home and I'll call you tomorrow."

"Why can't a doctor ever order me to put Chloelicious in MY bed?" Bart grumbled, before shrugging and flashing Oliver a smile, "Well, see you tomorrow."

Oliver watched as Bart disappeared before turning back into the room and stretching out on the far side of the bed. He fully intended to stay awake and keep an eye on Chloe, but he decided to just shut his eyes for a few minutes in the mean time.

. . .

The clock by his bedside said 1:26 AM when he woke up to Chloe sitting up suddenly and starting to talk.

"No! No, please!" she looked at him in terror as he sat up, "Put it away!"

"Chloe," he said gently, "It's Oliver."

"He's not the Green Arrow," She shook her head wide-eyed and innocent, if it wasn't for the fact that he was intimately acquainted with the truth regarding the Green Arrow he would have been completely convinced, "And this whole thing won't do you any good. Now put it down!"

Oliver turned on the bedside lamp, "Hey, it's me, you're safe."

"No!" She screamed, propelling herself backwards and tumbling off the bed.

He was up and around the bed in a flash, hoping that she hadn't pulled her stitches. She scooted back until she was up against the wall, whimpering softly as tears rolled down her face.

"You hurt me enough," she whispered, looking up at him pitifully, "Please, please don't cut me again."

Oliver hesitated, wondering if it was better for him to stay away, but his concern won out and knelt down next to her to check her stitches. She had closed her eyes, and one tear dripped off of her chin and splashed on his arm as he reached out and lifted the hem of her blouse a little way. An instant later a hand smacked across his jaw, and Oliver suddenly found himself glad that she did not have her full strength and wits about her.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she shouted hoarsely, a look of horror written plainly across her features, "I'll kill you!"

Oliver sat back on his heels, realization dawning as she hugged herself and curled up into the tiniest ball possible. Red fog clouded his vision for a moment and if her abductor had been handy at that moment, his life wouldn't have been worth anything.

"Okay," he said after calming himself quickly, "I won't touch you."

"Oliver?" She lifted her chin a little and opened her eyes further, "Is that you? How did you find me?"

"Yes, it's Oliver," he replied, remembering that the doctor had said that during a hallucination it would be better if he did not try to convince her that what she was imagining was incorrect, "I'm here to rescue you."

She uncurled herself and crawled over to him. He wrapped himself around her as she held on to him tightly and sobbed convulsively.

"Shh," he crooned, smoothing her hair, "I'll keep you safe. Everything is going to be fine. I won't let anyone hurt you."

They stayed like that for a long time, until her sobbing slowed and stopped and she began to relax. He picked her up, deposited her back on the bed, checked her stitches, and then laid down next to her, drawing her into the curve of his body. He was almost asleep when her voice broke the silence.

"I'm not ever going to tell you Clark's secret," she stated, "So all of this really isn't doing any good."

"What?" his eyebrows drew together.

"Honestly, Lex, did you really think that I would exchange Clark's secret for my freedom and safety?"

"You're right," Oliver sighed, hoping that this would placate her, "I give up. I'm going to set you free with no strings attached."

"Liar." She replied, turning gingerly to face him, "But what I don't get is why you're wasting your time being nice to me. Is it because torture didn't work? Or are you really that hard up for female company?"

Oliver blinked, not quite sure what to make of this new conversation.

"You already know," Chloe continued, painfully pulling herself closer to the top of the bed until her face was on his pillow, "That I'm used to living without love, or attention, from guys I know. What makes you think that this would have an effect on me?"

He wasn't quite sure what answer to give, although she seemed to expect one, or even what the question had been because right at that moment his attention was focused on her mouth. He vaguely wondered if she would be more likely to listen to him while she was a little loopy if he were to tell her the truth about how he felt about her.

"Clark!" she said in relief a moment later, "I knew that you would... Where are you going? Stop! I need you!" Tears once more gathered in her eyes as, in her mind, Clark walked away from her. "Please." She whispered, "This was all for you. How can you just abandon me for Lois? Why is it that the only man who goes out of his way to make me feel special is the man who is trying to extract information from me?"

Oliver could feel his own eyes getting watery as she spoke. He brushed at them and shook his head, wondering when all of this would stop.

"Well well, Mr. Queen," her voice took on a lighter, more flirtatious tone, "And what brings you here at this hour?"

"Huh?" He registered his name with surprise.

"Let me guess," she said playfully, then her face hardened as she continued in a slightly angry tone, "You want a favor."

"No," he sighed, "I just wanted to say hello."

"Uh huh, like I believe that. The only time anyone wants me is when I can help them." Her voice was rapidly gaining in volume, though, to his relief, she didn't try to sit up or anything, "No one likes me for who I am, just for what I can do for them! And you're no different, Green Arrow, going around saving people you hardly know and ignoring people who love you."

"I'm sorry." he closed his eyes as a wave of shame washed over him. Even though she was obviously not in her right mind at the moment, the accusation bothered him because he knew that it was mostly true.

"It's ok," she told him gently, patting his face gently, "I forgive you. Now kiss me goodnight and go home like a good boy. You can come back and bother me in the morning, it's hardly proper for you to be here at this time of night anyways."

She pursed up her lips as if fully expecting to be kissed goodnight. Oliver hesitated, not sure what to do. In the end, even though he was aching to give her what she wanted, he was concerned that she would remember in the morning and be upset with him so he opted for a peck on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Sidekick," he said softly, "Sleep well."

"Night." She turned back over and snuggled against him once again, "Bring me coffee in the morning."

"Okay," he whispered, resting his chin on her soft hair, "I will."

. . .

Chloe woke up to the smell of coffee drifting through the room. She yawned and started to stretch but stopped and caught her breath when a sharp pain hit her stomach.

"Ooh," she groaned, opening her eyes to see Oliver, who had finally changed out of his Green Arrow gear, standing next to the bed holding a steaming cup of coffee, "Oliver?"

"Hey Sidekick," he grinned, setting the cup down on the nightstand, "Let me help you sit up and then you can have some of this wonderful coffee I made for you. You're going to have to take it easy for a few days."

He helped her sit up and then handed her the steaming mug and sat down at her feet.

"Thanks," she closed her eyes and breathed in the comforting smell, "Maybe this will help refresh my memory as to why I am waking up in your bed."

"Oh," Oliver felt his face warm slightly, "After Bart and I found you we brought you back here and after we got you all fixed up I just brought you in here."

"Oh yeah," she said slowly, sipping the coffee, "I remember now."

They sat in silence for a minute until the sound of a toaster going off brought Oliver to his feet, "I'll be right back with your pain medication. You have to take it with food, so I made you some toast. Would you like some eggs too?"

"No thanks," Chloe grimaced slightly, "I think I'll stick with toast at this time in the morning."

They ate breakfast together on the bed, with Chloe filling Oliver in on her side of the story. Oliver listened quietly, nodding and making sympathetic noises at all the right moments but not really focusing on what she was saying. There was only one question that he really wanted to ask, and that was the only question that he just wasn't sure how to pose.

"Okay," Chloe said finally, "What are you thinking about?"

"Huh?"

"I just repeated the same sentence three times to see if you were really listening. What's on your mind?"

Oliver flushed, "I'm sorry, I really was paying attention for most of it. But there is something I'd like to ask you..." His voice trailed off and he hesitated.

"Well?" Chloe raised her eyebrows at him over the rim of her cup, "Out with it. It's not like Oliver Queen to be shy about asking something he wants to know about."

Oliver licked his lips and cleared his throat, "Do you remember anything about last night?"

"Um, I remember you carrying me in here, but if it wasn't for your question I would just assume that I slept until just a few minutes ago. Why?" She raised an eyebrow before a slightly embarrassed look came over her face, "Did I do something I should know about?"

"No! Well, I mean, no, you didn't do anything out of line." Darn it, he was supposed to be good with words, why was this so hard?

"Just spit it out." she ordered, setting her mug down and looking him in the eye.

"Last night you had some hallucinations," he cleared his throat, "And something you said, uh..."

She waited in silence as he seemed to fish for the right words.

"Well, you thought I was your kidnapper and you acted like I was going to... you know... and I was wondering, did that low life _touch _you?" He watched her face carefully as he finished.

"Did he... Oh, you mean did he TOUCH me? No. I remember being afraid that he was going to, but the only injuries I got are the ones you probably already saw." She watched as he breathed an unconscious sigh of relief and his shoulders relaxed before she picked up her coffee and asked curiously, "So I was experiencing hallucinations, huh? Did I say anything weird?"

"Not really, just some random things about friends you used to have," he shrugged, "Nothing of real interest."

"Hey, Mamacita!" Bart breezed in, "How did you survive the night with our illustrious boss? Did he keep his hands to himself or do I need to race him to the middle of the desert and leave him to contemplate good manners by himself?"

"Hi Bart," she replied, gracing him with a smile, "Thanks for rescuing me last night. And our boss behaved himself properly as far as I remember."

"Well that's a relief," He plopped down on the bed, snatched her last piece of toast, and took a large bite before saying, "Hey, your knife wielding friend got arrested last night. Turns out that he is a reporter who lost his job after voicing his opinion that the head of Queen Industries dresses in green leather and shoots little green arrows. Apparently he was pretty upset, so he came up with a spur of the moment plan that basically was that if he took you from where you were having lunch with Mr. Billionaire and then the Jolly Green Giant came to rescue you and Mr. Billionaire brought you to the hospital, he'd have proved his point. Unfortunately, the only thing he managed to prove was that he beat you up pretty good. He had a whole welcoming committee stationed outside of every hospital and clinic around, just waiting for Oliver to roll up with you in his limo. Poor guy didn't even get to prove that the Green Arrow rescued you... apparently he forgot to turn off his camera after testing it, so he has a bunch of footage of him hurting you that ends when he goes up to turn on the video camera to tape your rescue. Problem is, he really turned it off. So the police arrested him on the spot when he pulled out his camera and showed them the video without previewing it himself."

"Wow, quite a long story to tell with your mouth full of toast," Chloe said seriously, "Now suppose you swallow and repeat yourself?"

"What?" Bart yelped, almost choking on his next bite before he saw the sparkle in her eyes, "Licious, that was just cruel! But I am so glad to see that you are feeling better that I will forgive you in exchange for my kiss."

"Excuse me?" Oliver's eyebrows dropped threateningly.

"My Flashlight," Bart swung the little thing around his finger by the keyring with a smirk, "I got it from her pocket yesterday without her noticing."

"Wait," Chloe said slowly, "I did notice! That was right after you brought me here but before you went to get Oliver!"

Bart looked crestfallen until he spotted Oliver's face. Then he started laughing and didn't stop until Chloe sobered him up with one sentence.

"Well, I think that we should do a rematch," she said, "Just because Oliver was more concerned about helping me than with winning your contest doesn't mean that he should have to forfeit the whole thing. Next week Tuesday we'll try one more time."

For the next week Oliver, with the conversation he had had with Chloe in the middle of the night still fresh on his mind, tried his best to show her (instead of just thinking it) that he really did care about her and not just when he needed a favor.

. . .

Exactly one week after their adventure, Chloe spent another day being followed around by the two boys, but this time nothing happened to interrupt their challenge. At the end of the day, all three of them met back at Queen tower to finish it up.

"And now," Chloe said, "Has the Green Arrow or Impulse come out on top? Stay tuned!"

"Hurry up!" Bart whispered loudly.

Chloe slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out a lone gold watch.

"YES!" Bart pumped his fist up and down before racing to Chloe's side, "I'm ready for my reward, Beautiful!"

Chloe pulled his face down and placed a quick peck on his lips. Bart closed his eyes and sighed happily before grabbing her up and twirling her around.

"I WON! Marry me?" he put on his best puppy dog face.

"Get out of here, Bart, before I decide that a mission just came up that will require your extended attention!" Oliver growled as Chloe laughed at Bart's antics.

"I can take a hint," Bart said, trying to look hurt, "So long, grumpy. See ya later Chloelicious!"

"That boy!" Oliver shook his head as Bart disappeared with a whoosh.

"You know," Chloe said, looking up at him, "I never did thank you for rescuing me."

His heart suddenly picked up speed as he looked down into her green eyes, no longer surrounded by a bruise. One hand reached up and pulled his head slowly closer and closer.

"What do you say, Queen?" She said softly, teasing him, "Or would you rather have a thank you note?"

Before the words had fully left her mouth he leaned down and captured her lips. After a moment she drew back and smiled at him.

"I love you," Oliver said suddenly, his thumb tracing her bottom lip, "I have for a while, but until the night you got hurt I thought that you didn't feel the same way."

She patted his face with a grin, "That's ok, you always were a bit dense. Now then, I believe that I'm a bit out of practice with this whole kissing thing. Wanna try again?"

"If you insist!"

"Wait a moment," she drew back just as his lips were about to meet hers, suddenly registering what he had said, "What did I say that night?"

Oliver chuckled and gathered her up in his arms with another kiss, feeling that he had found home at last.

**The End**

_Did you like it? If you did, please leave a review... if not, go read something else... ;-)_**  
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